


Silent Night

by prince0froses



Category: Batman: The Animated Series, DCU, DCU Animated, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prince0froses/pseuds/prince0froses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Wayne finds himself alone on Christmas Eve, dwelling on a missed opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mithen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/gifts).



Even in his armor, Bruce was cold, and as he leaned back in his chair in front of the Batcave computer, the long sigh he let out hung visible in the air. His patrol earlier had come up refreshingly empty; not a creature was stirring it seemed. On this night, of all nights, he ought to be upstairs in the Manor. Too quiet; and while the Batman liked a good meditative silence as much as the next detective, it ached to have no puzzle to fill it with, an itch in his brain. And too bright; empty halls bedecked with holly and softly glowing lights seemed simply no place for a Dark Knight.  
  
Not a case to be solved, not a peep on the streets. The only lights in the city that night had been faint and twinkling; a blanket of stars over the sleeping city unmarred by the Bat-signal. Gordon was likely at home with his family: carving up a turkey, passing Barbara a stack of presents, or just enjoying the calm in Gotham's storm.  
  
Bruce turned to his surveillance setup, and scolded himself for his disappointment that even Arkham was wholly silent. It helped that the worst of them were, for once this year, all locked up, and not a one being considered for parole. And, after the incidents of years past, the security staff knew to check for rockets hidden in the Asylum's Christmas tree.  
  
So, nothing at all to distract from the fact that Christmas Eve saw Wayne Manor sitting dormant.  
  
Alfred had asked to return to England, visit with relatives who had been decades neglected. Bruce had held back a smile when his butler had shown him pictures mailed of the grand-nieces and nephews Alfred hadn't even met, and so of course gave his blessing. Tim wanted to go with; he had never been to another country, and Bruce let it pass, not even thinking how it was starting to add up. And when Dick had, with a sheepish blush, said he had a very important question to ask Barbara Gordon on Christmas Eve whilst fidgeting with a box in his pocket, how could Bruce tell him no?  
  
He barked out a harsh laugh as the thought of turning on one of the League communicators entered his mind, and instead he shut everything down for the night. Shayera and J'onn were sharing Monitor Duty; the rest of them had families to attend to. Not a single one would have their evening improved by the presence of a grumpy bat. He'd been called Scrooge more than once as he scowled at Wally setting speed records adorning every opening in the Watchtower with mistletoe, he didn't need to hear it again.  
  
Especially not the way he had heard it after bumping into Clark in one of those doorways and turning away from the incoming kiss.  
  
 _"Clark_."  
  
Bruce's mind went exactly to the place he kept it from every year at Christmas. Dick's jovial laughter, Tim's antics, Alfred's dry wit, the food, the warmth of the fire, were always enough to keep his thoughts from a snowy Kansas farmhouse. This year, nothing stopped him. Bruce pictured the whole day from start to finish. Clark packing his bags excitedly, heading to work. Clark receiving a horrifically ugly tie from Lois at the Planet's Christmas party. The look of wonder in Clark's blue eyes as he soared above the clouds, watching the planet below him as a swirling snowglobe. Joyful embraces, the exchange of knitted comforts and tales of the past year with the Kents. And perhaps, as the sky clears, looking up to the stars and remembering the parents he lost, wondering how Lara and Jor-El would have celebrated with him had they lived to do so.  
  
Lost to his daydream, cowled head resting in folded arms against the dead console, Bruce let his weary body sag with the weight of solitude. Ordinarily, he'd force it out of his mind, find anything to focus on, but what was the point tonight? What was the point after he'd let his chance go...  
  
"I heard my name."  
  
Bruce jolted upward, and in the monitor's reflection a familiar smile awaited him. Once he was certain he was not hallucinating, Bruce turned and in an instant was kissing the grin from Clark's face, refusing to let it escape him this time.  
  
Hours later, as the sun rose above Wayne Manor, Bruce stirred in his bed, struck with fear that he'd been dreaming. When warm breath brushed his ears with the sound of "Merry Christmas," Bruce fell into his love's embrace, and knew he would never again be alone.


End file.
